Unraveling
by Keraha
Summary: While Kira and L battled in public, Raito and Ryuuzaki had wars in private, almost silent interactions.


**Title:** Unraveling   
**Author:** Keraha   
**Warnings:** PG-13 for some language and mild m/m situations. Semi Raito/L. One shot.   
**Notes:** I wrote this when only 20 or so chapters were out. I don't think there're any spoilers, but you should also be warned that I wrote this before their canon relationship really developed. I was considering not posting it until I fixed it up more (mostly dealing with characterization and especially L. .), but with school and everything else that's going on, I'm not finding either time [or motivation] to revise it further. My sincere apologies about that.

* * *

Raito studied L, curled around himself as he stared at the television screen. L was a strange contradiction that he wanted, _itched_ to solve. The L he knew from police reports and his father was a brilliant man, who solved cases that were deemed impossible without even trying. Answers and explanations fell from his hands, and the police lapped them up desperately. He had respected L, long before they became rivals, and now, meeting him, it was joined with a strange feeling in his gut that he identified as a twisted permutation of jealousy.

Unlike the math problems he unraveled at school, that answer did not come immediately to his mind. But when he realized that it was envy, he saw all the signs immediately. It rankled him that if this was in fact L, this boy had been solving difficult cases with the police, had been a desperately sought resource of the police, while he had been praised by his father alone for solving some ridiculously basic case.

And L _dared_ congratulate him for doing what L had been doing better and earlier.

Raito's lip curled.

This shoddily dressed boy with terrible posture and disheveled hair-- Raito's eyes flickered over each characteristic-- he was the genius behind over twenty impossible cases. The part of him that whispered that to succeed one needed to dress well, present oneself well, make the right friends and do the right thing stung every time he looked at L. It burned to know that this boy had succeeded in the world without anything but his brain.

But even with that hurt sizzling its way through his mind, Raito had continued to observe his rival and saw that while L stayed behind a computer screen and a handwritten font to use his brain, it was a weakness. L was, of all things, sheltered, something that Raito could never claim as a characteristic of himself.

Watching him at school, Raito knew that L wasn't completely unfamiliar with the public, but he also knew that L didn't understand the importance of other people. He refused to give in to the million things that Raito had, and as a result, lost what could be molded into power. The slovenly way he dressed carried the message that he didn't care and other students instinctively avoided that message. The perpetual slouch spoke of gutters and drugs, the untied shoes of a poor background, and everything added to one disjointed whole that was redeemed only by the lightning thoughts that snaked their way through his mind.

Even that, though, was not a favor. Raito knew that students had a propensity towards petty jealousy, and as a result dressed nicely. If he acted like he was one of them, then he could act as though he were smart only as an accident, that his ability to piece together thoughts a result of his father's job. He downplayed his own abilities and students respected his brain.

But L was a blatant insult. He stood in people's ways, a cruel outlier in the nice, even data of brilliant men in pressed suits and banquet halls. Raito didn't do anything about it, just made the appropriate comments about the way he sat, his clothing, and the typical suggestions that any student would give, although perhaps slightly more forward, as was his wont.

Watching him, Raito couldn't quite piece all the observations he'd accumulated to the L he had heard so many stories about. He couldn't imagine that L would be so careless as to alienate the other students like that.

A few days later, when L approached Raito at school, and the students he was talking to scattered, Raito realized L's plan. It wasn't arrogance, as he had suspected, but a way of connecting utterly to Raito at school. While others ignored him, Raito had no choice but to accept him as a friend. Raito had established a reputation of being friendly and to reject L would hurt his own appearance. He must become friends with the one who had matched him score for score or face a rivalry he couldn't afford.

This plan put Raito off balance. The idea that this sheltered boy could have such a understanding of human nature, matter how minor, bothered him. Raito had estimated that L did not spend much time with people, and it bothered him that L had the ability to internalize and comprehend people like that. As though they were the history books that both of them could read and recite, linking name to face to event and importance. Raito knew that L, with his strange, unblinking eyes, was aware of his discomfort and enjoyed it in that strange, distant way he perceived everything.

Like almost everything L did, it infuriated Raito in ways that he couldn't quite comprehend.

So Raito fought just as L did, word for word, question for question, and shove for disguised shove. It was all he could do to keep from losing ground, one wrong inflection at a time, one mistimed flick of the eyes. But the constant danger of slipping was what made L a challenge.

Raito admitted to himself that this was the first time in a very long time that he had enjoyed himself.

Sparring with L kept him on his toes and every small victory, no matter how minor, filled him with a sweet elation. Even when L was looking slightly puzzled, thumb being gnawed on almost feverishly, Raito knew that he had not won. Just pushed him back a bare step. But at the same time, he knew that if he kept doing this, kept wearing L down, then he would win. Because at high stake battles like this, even the smallest step backwards was a major loss.

While Kira and L battled in public, Raito and Ryuuzaki had wars in private, almost silent interactions.

Raito smiled coldly.

"Yagami-kun," L said, staring at him, gaze jumping from the screen to fix on Raito with the abrupt motion of a new thought.

"Yes?" He turned to face L, attentive listener on his face.

"Your father wanted you home before twelve, did he not?"

Raito nodded, then looked at the clock. It was a few minutes past eleven thirty, and if he left now, he'd make it home with plenty of time to spare.

After a pause, L said, still hunched over, "You have an exam tomorrow." He was looking at Raito through dark eyes.

"As do you, Ryuuzaki." Raito replied evenly, eyes flicking away, seemingly uncomfortable at the attention, then they darted back to L's face. Raito watched with some detached amusement as his left hand moved up to brush L's hair away from his eyes. L stared back, his eyes following the other's hand, suddenly caught in a situation that seemed about to spiral out of control.

Raito bent closer, feeling his body move without him, and he looked at L, really looked. And he saw pale skin, stretched taut over bone, purple bags under eyes, and wrist bones that threatened to pierce through almost translucent flesh. Raito could almost see the blue veins pulsating just below the surface of his hands. L shrank back.

Seeing the other's discomfort, the cold, analytical investigator in Raito laughed.

"Ryuuzaki," Raito breathed, seeing the way L froze, a reptilian stillness that would have been a tremble in any warm-blooded creature, "you need to take better care of yourself." He took one of L's hands and held it between his own, noticing how unnaturally cold they were, how birdlight and timid. "You need to eat more, get some flesh on you. Your body temperature's ridiculously low. You can't take an exam like this." He rubbed L's hands.

As soon as he stopped, L slipped his hands away, looking as though he wanted to rub them against his shirt to clean them, but instead just curling them inside his sleeves. Raito looked concerned.

"I can," L said, looking away. "And I do."

"That's no way for you to live, not if you want to live a long time."

L was silent.

"Ryuuzaki, you can't die this young. The police need you." And Raito willed himself to position his body just so, move his lips just enough, so the words "And I need you" floated on the air.

Look at him, Raito thought, sneering. Look at how uncomfortable he is. This is what he gave up when he entered Touou with uncombed, messy hair. He gave up the power in manipulation, through seduction and normal human interaction. By no means was Raito above it. He used similar techniques every day to get people to like him, angling his body and changing his inflection to voice a thousand unsaid words.

And L, like them, was being drawn into it.

Raito was strangely disappointed. He didn't think that L would give in that easily. If physical proximity was all it took to take him down, then L had left a fatal flaw in his defense, one that would, in retrospect, explain the computer screen and Watari. But Raito couldn't believe that L would be as foolish as that, to have such a major weakness.

There was a moment of silence as L digested his words and the meanings behind it.

He caught Raito's slightly worried expression and scratched his neck sheepishly. Then he inclined his face up towards Raito and smiled, an innocent child shining out of his face. "Thank you for your concern, Yagami-kun."

Seeing that guileless smile on L's face, Raito's gut lurched. He had made another mistake. L knew how to play the game just as well as Raito did, except unlike Raito, he used precise reactions, rather than confrontations. It took skill to be able to maneuver like that, to change each conversation to suit his own goals. If he didn't know better, he would have said that L truly still had a child living inside of him.

But that couldn't be.

So Raito smiled at L, using the curve of lips that said, "You are a good friend. I trust you," and said softly, "Sleep tonight, Ryuuzaki. The case isn't that important that you have to kill yourself to solve it."

The shy smile on L's face froze and Raito realized that in this investigation, for the police, solving this case meant killing yourself, losing each day to anticipation, to a busy schedule, and to the public. For L, who publicly declared himself Kira's enemy, it made him the prime sacrifice. Raito knew with that sick, frozen smile, that L had thought about dying for the case, except that this was an act, because L would never, ever give up his life like that. It was the one thing of value he had besides his brain, and it was what he valued most.

Raito leaned forward, his right hand brushing L's hair before resting on his shoulder, then said, "Hey, don't worry. We'll catch him." Then he smiled the cocky, justice-will-prevail smile and said, "I swear it." He dropped his hand, lingering just the tiniest bit over his shoulder.

"Justice will prevail." L said softly. His statement was not an act, it was a truth in his eyes.

Raito planned to carry out, to make real his own idea of justice. "Yes."

They sat in silence for a moment, each lost in thought.

Then in a moment, breaking the stillness that had flowed over them, Raito turned to face L, his right hand snaking up to L's head. In the short abrupt movements of one who doesn't want to second-guess himself, he pressed his lips against L's, relishing in the way L stiffened and how his eyes widened.

It was a chaste kiss, as far as kisses went, just the touch of lip on lip, nothing compared to the words they hurled at each other in daylight, but with this one move, Raito knew he had sent L reeling.

When Raito pulled away, he searched L's eyes, the way a first lover might, searching for rejection or hurt, except behind his brown eyes, was Kira. And Kira smiled to see L frozen, as though not moving would render him invisible.

I win, he thought. If he had said it aloud, he would have been smirking. But he couldn't give up the game, not yet.

"I-- I should go now," Raito said, a tinge of regret and shame coloring his voice. He stood up, and he could feel L's eyes on his back. He bent to get his things, grabbing papers and folders, then placing them in his bag. He made a few nervous gestures, as would any normal college boy unnerved by the fact that he had just kissed a good friend, sending a few pen caps skittering off the table. As he bent to pick them up, white fingers pressed them into his own, cold against his warm flesh.

The fingers lingered, and Raito looked up into L's eyes. They were warm and deep and that naivety shone through again.

As a jolt ran through his hand, he began to think almost feverishly. I can't tell what's an act and what's not anymore, thought Raito, almost delirious with fear. I can't tell, and it's killing me. Does he really believe me or is he pretending? I can't tell. I can't tell! A note of panic edged into his mind.

"I have to go," Raito said. "I have to go. My father told me to be home by twelve o'clock. I have an exam tomorrow." And he felt himself begin to babble, repeating what L had told him, as though saying it again would make it true.

L slipped his hand away, only to curl them back up in his shirtsleeves.

"Goodbye, Yagami-kun." L's voice was back to normal, making Raito believe that it was all an act. Until L ducked his head slightly and added, "Raito."

Raito's throat dried. "Good night, Ryuuzaki."

He stood up, bring his bag to his shoulder, and left, shutting the hotel door quietly behind him, knowing that L would be pressing his hands to his lips, where Raito had stolen his first kiss. Or made him think that he was doing that. He took deep breaths, hating how he had lost control of the game like that, to the point where he didn't even know how much was a game.

"Goddamnit," he hissed through his teeth. "God_damnit_." He waited until he reached the stairwell to slam his hand against the wall, feeling his flesh give way to concrete. It should have been impossible for L to turn that-- he searched for a word that wouldn't leave a bitter taste in his mouth-- _situation_ against him. How could that recluse understand people like that? How, when all he did was sit in his hotel rooms and speak through the computer?

Raito gritted his teeth, hating the fact that L now lingered on his lips, his hands, his clothing.

How did L keep _doing_ this?

He snarled, then ran down the stairs, feeling the burn of his muscles match the fury in his veins.

Goddamn you, he thought bitterly. _Goddamn you, L._

He stopped several floors down, breath coming in quick pants. Once he realized what he was saying, he began to laugh in long, shuddering exhales between gasps for breath.

Once he defeated L, not with a kiss, but with the police and his own people against him, then he would become God himself, free to judge and damn as he pleased. It would be his personal revenge. He would take on evil to conquer it. Justice will prevail, he said, hearing L echo in his mind. He would destroy L, make him into someone who would never challenge him again. Permanently silence that clever mouth, blind those wide-open eyes.

He would become god of the new world, and he would have his way.

He laughed.

Raito stood up straight and rubbed his hand across his mouth. He adjusted his bag over his shoulder more comfortably, took a deep breath, then began to walk home as though nothing had happened.

Goddamn you, L, he thought. And rather than with anger, it was tinged with dark amusement and a promise.

From behind him, he could hear Ryuuku laughing.

"Humans are so _interesting_…"


End file.
